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Fr Jarek Kurek OSB

It struck me, at the outset of this New Year 2024, how eagerly people got down to make their New Year’s resolutions. Something embedded deep down seeking change, seeking renewal, causing a resolution to form in heart and mind.

Now Lent has begun, a new season indeed, a most important time in our Christian life. So, what change are we seeking, what renewal, and what resolution are we making in our hearts and minds?

It has been, I think, not difficult to grasp this newness and renewal listening to the gospel today. Jesus prompts his listeners to repentance, to conversion, to perform a change in their hearts and minds.

The Greek word for this change is metanoia – it is to leave behind our old ways of being and thinking and embrace a new existence, which Jesus continuously points us towards in his teaching.

What does it actually mean? What are we to do? How are we to be?
I think a reflection on the following words of Jesus should help us a lot: ‘If anyone wants to become my follower, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me’.

Now, in our modern minds, the cross doesn’t strike any positive notes! But, if we looked at the ancient tradition of the church, also in Ireland, we will find a different idea, and, I think, quite inspiring. So what do the medieval monks say about taking up the cross? They suggest that, yes, there is a necessity to abstain from food and reject vices, but taking up Jesus’s cross leads to following Jesus in his good thoughts; this was their understanding of the metanoia, our conversion.

Let me divide this path of conversion into three parts – body, mind and Jesus. First, there is the cross of our body, abstaining from food and so on, fast we all know.

What comes next is the reality, I believe, less known to us… the cross of our mind. Now what could that ‘mental cross’ be?  Let me give you at least two aspects of it. The first of this mental cross is a fast of the mind, that is fasting in our thoughts from gossip, envy, lust after
vengeance etc. This is what the tradition regarded as the true and sanctifying fast, the fast which can bring a profound transformation to our spiritual life. But there is another side of this mental cross that we are supposed to carry, that is compassion. Compassion for all people and all creatures. It is our Christian task to be with others, to be for them, to share their infirmities, to help them in sickness, both of body and mind. But there is a caveat: we are guided by the wise monks of the past – with compassion for the person but with opposition to their vices. Since, they say, if ‘we rashly pardon faults we may appear to be no longer sharing in their sufferings through charity, but be yielding through indifference’. Truly food for thought…

Lastly, the final step in this path of conversion is following Jesus in our ‘good thoughts’. The preceding steps should transform the working of our bodies and minds, and so prepare us for a new approach to our spiritual life. With the old, bad habits and thoughts gone, we are ready to make our Lenten preparations different, new indeed.

Because, if we catch the novelty of how to take up the cross, the cross of our bodies and minds,  then instead of sorrow, or perhaps some flatness in our spiritual life, we will be able to truly remain spiritually alive, in Christ.

Through the days of this Lent try to make an attempt to renew your Christian life, make it your determined resolution and soon you will benefit from this blessed effort.

And finally using the words of St Benedict let me say this to you ‘now with the joy of spiritual desire wait for Holy Easter’.

Abbot Brendan OSB

For the first time since 1945, Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday coincide. It will only happen once more this century and that will be in 2029. Perhaps this unusual occurrence is provoking us to consider what true love looks like. It certainly takes a bit more than a box of chocolates and a bunch of flowers.

And so, this year, the feast day of our commercial obsession with love and romance is being subverted by a stark reminder that we are dust and to dust we shall return.

In all our relationships, we would do well to remember the brevity of human life. In our relationship with God, Lent can be that hibernation period where we can fall in love all over again. God responds to the sin that keeps us from him by wooing us away from other, lesser gods and back to the real lover of our souls.

The ashes imposed on our foreheads are a sign of our repentance. We are not supposed to display our fasting and repentance in a pious way, but we’re also not supposed to just wash them off.

Those ashes will be a mark and reminder, as deep and personal as any piece of jewellery or bunch of flowers. These ashes show that we are loved, and that our beloved’s commitment to us is constant and true, even when we are not. They show us that divine Love is not just about feelings or sentiments, but about death to everything that hinders it. They say to us, ‘What do you plan to do between the time you receive these ashes and the time you become them?’

This is why we need Ash Wednesday this Valentine’s Day. We will fast from unwarranted judgments about ourselves and about others. We will give up self-hate. We will give up impatience with others. We will give up fear of strangers and hatred of our enemies. We will give food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, clothes to the naked, shelter to the homeless. We will visit the sick and imprisoned. We will bury the dead with honour. We will give instruction to the ignorant, counsel to the doubting, comfort to the sorrowful, gentle reproof to the erring. We will forgive those who’ve wronged us, and bear with those who trouble and annoy us. We will pray for everyone and everything.

This Ash Wednesday I can decide to make a real gesture of love from the ashes of my life. This is our Lenten programme and unlike Valentine’s Day, it lasts, not one, but forty days.

Fr Columba McCann OSB

‘Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean!’ I imagine that many of us have said something similar in our prayers, asking for health, either for ourselves or for our loved ones. Sometimes God answers through natural healing, or through medical intervention, or sometimes in ways that still defy our understanding.

Sometimes it appears as if God hasn’t listened at all. At least we don’t get what we want. It could be that God’s plan of therapy for us or for others is much bigger and more ambitious. It could be that the work God is doing with us is so big that the reality of physical sickness or its absence pale into the shade. But that can be very hard for us to see or accept.

All the people healed by Jesus in the gospel accounts eventually died. It means that his healings were ultimately about something more than simple biological recovery. St John’s gospel in fact refers to them as signs. But signs of what? What are they pointing to? One example of this was when they brought a paralysed man to Jesus. Jesus responded with compassion, not because of his paralysis, but because of something bigger. His first words to him were, ’Your sins are forgiven.’ It was only when people began to grumble about Jesus forgiving sins that he also told the man to get up and walk. The healing of paralysis confirmed his message of forgiveness. The physical healing was a sign of a much deeper healing, healing a problem that, deep down, was more distressing than physical paralysis for all its difficult challenges.

On another occasion, when Jesus was criticised for mixing with sinners, he compared himself to a doctor. It’s the sick who need the doctor! That’s good news for us. What about today’s reading? The man had some kind of skin problem. Leprosy was a catch-all word referring to a whole wide range of skin diseases. A major outcome of this was isolation, in case of contagion. Remember Covid 19 lockdown! Part of Jesus’s healing project is to bring us out of isolation. That’s why he gathers us here in one place. Being with one another here is part of our deep healing. Even if we find that, at times, we find ourselves getting irritated by what we see when we gather together. It’s part of his formula.

A woman once went to a funeral. When it came to the sign of peace she shook hands with a stranger beside her, and he began to cry. In a whisper she asked the man if we were a close friend of the deceased. ‘No,’ he said, ‘but this is the first time that anyone has physically touched me in many, many years.’ The Lord gathers us and brings us out of isolation. He brings us here to speak to our hearts, and so we
can respond in kind. Being a leper back then didn’t just bring social isolation. It also brought a condition of ritual impurity: you weren’t allowed to take part in religious events. To make matters worse, many people believed that being a leper was a punishment from God, a sign that you were a great sinner.

Most of us, if we are honest, would admit that, really, there is much at work inside us that gets in the way of living in partnership with God, gets in the way of our being fully alive. We need healing. So our attitude towards Jesus could well imitate that of the leper, who knelt before Jesus: if you are willing, you can heal me. Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed. And
Jesus will reply: of course I want to heal you! This is my body given for you; this is the covenant in my blood for the forgiveness of your sins.
Jesus could have healed the leper just with a word. Instead, he did the one thing that he knew would really speak to the leper: he reached out and touched him. He knows too that we are not disembodied spirits, so he reaches out to us not only with his word but with something that goes into our hands, our mouths, our bodies. This is my body given for you. Be healed!

On Saturday 10th February, the feast of Saint Scholastica, the monastic community at Glenstal remembers Br Michael O’Connor OSB on the tenth anniversary of his death.

James (Seamus) John O’Connor was born in Dublin on 5th February 1927. His father died in 1928, leaving his wife to raise their daughter and three sons. After school with the Christian Brothers in Francis Street, close to St Patrick’s Cathedral, Seamus went to work in the White Swan Laundry which remained a reference-point for his whole life. Referred to Glenstal by the Augustinian friars in John’s Lane, Dublin, he entered the monastery on 5th May 1951, receiving the name Michael. He was professed on 10th May 1953.

For much of Brother Michael’s life in the monastery, he was the community tailor and in charge of the then linen-room, as well as assistant infirmarian. He also spent some years as kitchener. He is best remembered, however, for his gifts of hospitality and friendship. While these found ample expression during his long tenure as guestmaster, he also made many friends in the locality. An important aspect of his ministry was his care for the Boy Scouts who up to the 1980s held regular summer camps on the back avenue. This dedication was recognised by several honours from the Catholic Boy Scouts of Ireland and the so-called Baden Powell Scouts, before the merger of the two associations.

Unforgotten is Brother Michael’s exemplary and patient care of Father Thomas Scott and especially of Father Winoc Mertens, whom he attended day-and-night from the latter’s stroke in late 1970 until his death in July 1978.

Possessed of keen psychological insight, Brother Michael could sum up a person at a glance and instinctively know how to behave. This did not mean that he was in any way subservient or a flatterer, and he was more than capable of a well-honed, apposite, remark. He was never short of a word and had a bank of anecdotes, starting from his childhood in the Liberties in Dublin, through his time in what he called the ‘landry’, to the monastery and, in later years, his trips to Germany and beyond with his good friend Father Franz Behler. Brother Michael was always close to his family and was particularly proud of the achievements of his nephews and nieces.

In poor health for some time, he died in the Regional Hospital in Limerick on 10th February 2014. Having celebrated his Golden Jubilee with not a little pomp in 2003 and his Diamond Jubilee more soberly in 2018, he would have been disappointed that the huge crowds that would have undoubtedly attended his funeral were prevented from doing so by one of the worst hurricanes the country had seen for more than 70 years.

May he rest in peace.

Fr Anthony Keane OSB

EVERYONE IS LOOKING FOR YOU.

In today’s gospel, from the first chapter of Mark, we find Jesus
welcomed and celebrated as the hope and delight of the peoples,, the
EXPECTATIO GENTIUM. For he teaches with authority, and among
his listeners the effect is one of welcome affirmation and liberation. It
is indeed no wonder that these wonders should occur. That nature
should be stilled and be thrilled at the presence of its Creator. That
everyone should be delighted at his summons to wholeness and
fullness of life. For he lovingly restores to us the perfection of the
divine image in which we are made, saying: ‘I say to you, you are
Gods, and all of you children of the Most High’. For those weighed
down by guilt for past sins, He is the Lamb who is proclaimed at the
sacrifice of the Mass: Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who
takes away the sins of the world. He would share with us the ecstasy
of the Trinity and its creative power to share life and make it
complete.
All seems lovely and bright, but dark clouds begin to appear, first as
mere specks that then proceed to gather and ominously darken. This
happens because the leaders of the people regressively wish to stay
asleep and stay in power. It happens because the oppressed
regressively wish to regress into a quiet impersonal state of existence.
It happens too because the explosive force of Christ’s presence among
us needs to be contained and properly packed to have its full effect.
The terrifying opposition to Christ’s coming is itself part of the plan
and only serves to amplify its message.
Finally, Christ calls disciples. Are there among us some who would
choose the fullness of life which He so kindly offers?

Fr Abbot Brendan OSB

The Temple in Jerusalem was a very busy place. A great many people were coming and going about their business. Priests and Levites were taking their turn to be on duty and many other devout people and pilgrims were scurrying about anxious to encounter the God of Israel. In all of their haste and business, none of them noticed Jesus. The child Jesus was like all the others, a first-born son, of simple unremarkable parents.

Only two elderly people, Simeon and Anna, were alert enough to notice him. Led by the Spirit they were able to find the fulfilment of their long awaited watchfulness. The prophetic attitude of these two elderly people contains the entire Old Covenant. When they saw him, they just knew! That is what is so remarkable. His light was visible to their well trained eyes.

Our feast today contains the fundamental symbol of light. This light comes from Christ, as in an icon, and shines upon Mary, Joseph, Simeon and Anna. We are asked to express this light as philokalia, love of Divine beauty, where our mind becomes absorbed in the awareness of God as a living presence. For this reason a lighted candle was entrusted to each one of us at our baptism.

This feast also contains prophecy as a gift of the Holy Spirit. In contemplating the Child Jesus, Simeon and Anna foresee his destiny of death and Resurrection for the salvation of all peoples and they proclaim this mystery as universal salvation. True prophecy is born of God, from friendship with him, from attentive listening to his word in the different circumstances of history.

Finally, this feast reveals to us the wisdom of Simeon and Anna. The wisdom of a life completely dedicated to the search for God’s Face, for his light, for his signs, for his will. This is a life of listening to the Word and living it.

The Holy Spirit illumines the Word with new light opening up new pathways for us to follow in our own lives as Christians. Do not be blind to this light. Do not let it pass you by in the hustle and bustle of ordinary life. Become wise like Simeon and Anna, attuned to the Word of God, so that when that Word approaches, you will just know.

This feast invites us to see the world in the light of Christ, to become a prophetic people rooted in the Word that gives us wisdom.

Fr Henry O’Shea OSB

Despite the fashionable mockery heaped by many populists from the
right or left of the political spectrum on those they classify as so-called
experts, most of us are prepared to accept the authority of at least
some experts.

In many cases, we can immediately recognise some benefit to
ourselves. The knowledge or skill of, for example, a doctor or a
mechanic may be of use to us. In these situations, the knowledge the
other person possesses can be power – but in most cases we can choose
whether or not to avail ourselves of that knowledge or skill. More or
less consciously, we believe that in these cases our freedom, our space,
is not invaded.

Many of us, though, have difficulty with an authority which we know
or imagine to be claiming to have the right to tell us how to behave,
how to run our lives. Our experience of the abuse of such authority in
public life, in the Church, in school or even in our families, can make
us allergic to claims of such authority and its exercise. And so we are
entitled to ask, is there such a thing as legitimate authority?

In today’s gospel Jesus is recognised as one who speaks with authority.
Is his the authority of the technical expert? Is his an authority that
invades our space, that limits our freedom? Is his the authority of a

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life-giving self-sacrifice or the self-seeking authority of the death-
dealer?

The scribes in to-day’s gospel are the officially accredited teachers of
the scriptures in the synagogue. Their knowledge is power – and they
know it and use it. Those who are surprised to hear Jesus preach as he
did in the synagogue immediately recognise the difference between
him and their usual teachers. Spontaneoulsy they grasp the difference
between professional peddlars and interpretors of an inherited, stale
and almost academic, tradition and a person who is speaking from
inside his own being. They immediately recognise the difference
between the dealers in death and the giver of life.

Jesus’s teaching flows out from who and what he was and is. Who and
what Jesus was then and still is now, is recognised and shouted out by
one of his listeners. A man possessed by an unclean spirit cries out– ‘I
know who you are – you are the holy one of God’. Jesus shows himself
to be a new way of knowing God a new way of talking about and
talking to God, a new way of living God.

Regardless of how we today might understand and describe what is
meant by an unclean spirit, the intuition and recognition displayed by
this spirit are not mistaken. The unclean spirit calls out, ‘what do you
want with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?’. Jesus’

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reply, ‘be quiet, come out of him’, destroys the death-dealing unclean
spirit and returns his life to the possessed man.

Up to the time of his crucifixion, Jesus, the life-giving teacher, will go
on to destroy many more dealers of death until with his resurrection
he destroys death itself. Every day, every moment, he offers us, he
challenges us, to choose between life – that is himself – and death –
that is slavery to the cynical, hopeless, despair of the unclean spirit.
When we choose life, his resurrection gives us the hope that the choice
is the right one. The holy one of God gives us the strength to live out
that right choice.

Fr Luke Macnamara OSB

The Mass is a place of encounter. We, the baptised are called by the Holy Spirit to celebrate together the mystery of Jesus’ death and resurrection. At the Mass we encounter and listen to the Word of God which is a lamp for our feet and a light for our paths. This light is necessary as we so often find ourselves in dark places either due to our own actions, those of others, or sometimes by chance. The Word shines a light in our darkness that the dark cannot overcome.

The readings today provide an indication of the illuminating power of the Word of God in various situations. First up is Jonah who has been commanded to go to Nineveh and proclaim: “Forty more days and Nineveh will be destroyed”. Nineveh is the capital of Assyria, a nation that is foremost among Israel’s enemies. This wicked city is unlikely to respond to a Jewish prophet. Jonah didn’t want to go there but finally accepts the Lord’s command. He is fearful that what the Lord says will not happen, and that he and the Lord will be shamed. The people of the city from the greatest to the least repent, fast and pray, so that the Lord changes his mind. The physical city of Nineveh is not destroyed and so Jonah is in one sense proved right. However the wickedness of the city is no more, so in a more real sense, the preaching of God’s word has destroyed the old Nineveh and something new and wonderful emerges. Might this transforming word have something to say to us in Ireland? Might this word have something to say to us at Glenstal, monastery and school, that we might be transformed? Might we have the courage to recognise failings and be open to new possibilities?

St Paul relativises all human possessions and relationships. The kingdom is coming. Possessions and concern for status will only weigh us down. God is calling us his children to take our places in the Kingdom. God calls us for who we are, not for what we have. Today, there is a real need to reconnect with who we are and who God wants us to become. God’s word has been sown in our hearts and knows us better that we know ourselves. The Word knows our deepest desires for life and happiness and so is best placed to guide us. This is why St Benedict places so much emphasis on listening to the Word in his Rule – monks are to spend about a third of the waking hours of each day reading and listening. The Word of the Lord calls out daily to each of us but how often do we listen?

Jesus proclaims the Good News to the people of Galilee, a word that is also spoken to us: “The time has come and the kingdom of God is close at hand. Repent, and believe the Good News.” Now is the time, near is the kingdom, best is this Good News for us all. Much like the fishermen, Simon and Andrew, and James and John, we have doubts, personal failings and weaknesses, but God’s word works in and through us. We have only to take up the invitation, to let the word perform its surgery on our hardened hearts and so make them hearts for love. The unlikely transformation of Nineveh, the greatest of sin, and of the all too ordinary fishermen with their weaknesses, should encourage us.

We may be in dark places, we may have personal failings, but God’s word lightens the darkest places and strengthens the weakest parts of ourselves. Let us open our eyes to the divine light and listen to the voice of the Lord, whose Word is the best compass for navigating our personal journeys, who guides our hearts to choose the way of life and happiness and who ultimately will bring us to our true harbour, life with the Trinity in eternity.